


Komaeda Likes Salty Things

by Trashball



Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Food Sex, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Reader-Insert, i dont know what else to tag this as. i just hate myself., my friend said that not me im not funny im so, put the NUT in PEANUT butter am i RIGHT kids, reader is left totally ambiguous. dont worry kids.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-19 02:52:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8186593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trashball/pseuds/Trashball
Summary: I can't sugar coat it. It's sex with peanut butter.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [All the anons that pushed me over the edge](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=All+the+anons+that+pushed+me+over+the+edge).



> fucking look at me dead in the eye and tell me you fucking like peanut butter after this hell
> 
> (also dont expect a work of art. i downed as much coke as i could and smashed this out. not that you should be expecting anything considering the title and description but there'll always be Someone)

Face flushed and sweaty, his eyes peep out at you beneath heavy hoods, a much darker grey than they are usually, in the dim illumination of your bedroom. His pale skin gleams with sweat; his heavy, laboured breaths break the tense silence.

“H-hah... To _think_ -” his voice is scratchy when he speaks, and he digs his nails into your thighs, “-such a beautiful bright hope would notice me! _Me!_ Someone who's so talented and so insignificant – someone who should _only_ act as a stepping stone, and help _you_ shine brighte-” he doesn't finish. Your mouth is fast: moving to his. You kiss him deeply, and he accepts, instantly forgetting whatever he was rambling about, simply _melting_ into you like you melt into him.

“Komaeda,” you murmur, and faintly you realise your breaths are just as shaky as his are, “-don't overthink it. Don't ramble about it. Just- _just_ touch me more.”

It's pathetic, really. Your voice is begging - it's simply _oozing_ with desperation. But he doesn't care (because why would he?) and his hands seem to be all over you in an instant, grabbing you in places that make you moan low in your throat. Heat is taking over your entire body, and you can only imagine the marvellous shade of pink you must be at this point.

“ _Komaeda_ -” (you're moaning his name, aren't you?) You think you are, at least. Nothing seems certain: up seems to be down, and the world seems to be spinning as his lip glide across your throat, kissing, biting, sucking and everything in between. “ _K-Komaeda...”_

There was something – something else. What was it? Shit. Your eyes flicker open, and a distant memory comes to mind, of another time you were lying on the beach together. The memory was warm: both in hue emotion. The summer sun had been high in the sky, casting a glow, that made Komaeda's ivory skin radiate brightly. Back then, his eyes were light - a brighter grey, with reflections of blue and green – and they sparkled as he laughed softly, eating ice cream together with you. You had plain strawberry; he had peanut butter cup.

“ _I like salty things_ ” he had explained, with a chuckle. Salty things. That's right.

Begrudgingly, you pulled away from him, immediately feeling cold when you did so. His eyes finally re-opened, too, now, staring at you like a lost puppy as you got up. “Wait,” you told him, softly, as you bent down, looking in your bedside cupboard. You swore you brought it in here earlier for this very purpose... _And, yes_. There it was: sitting smack-bang in the middle. Grabbing it, you straightened back up, and held the jar in your hands like a prize. Komaeda's eyes widened.  
“Peanut butter?” it was refreshing seeing him so genuinely taken aback: usually, the crafty bastard was a few steps ahead of you, rather than the other way around.

Smiling, you return back to his side. “You like this stuff, right? You said you did.” The lid pops off smoothly, and you peel away the foil. “I thought... _Maybe_ you'd like to-”

You almost see the lightbulbs go off on his head, as he realises what you're saying. “Oh, please!” A _nd he's back at it again, rambling away._ “Honestly, don't go out of your way to please me like that. Like I was saying beforehand – for you to even _waste your time_ on a person like me is enough, nevermind purposefully making yourself uncomfortable like th-”  
  
“ _But what if I want you to, hm, Komaeda?_ ” You didn't mean to say it so forcefully, but that's how it comes out. “What if that's exactly what I want-” you continue, and you find yourself whispering, as you pull his face closer to yours, “- _what if I want_ you to filthy me, to spread this nasty salty garbage all over my body? What if I _want_ you to lick it all of?” And you're so close to him, you can make out every single one of his eyelashes, and every crease in his wet, pink lips. “What if I want you, hm?”

You see him swallow. Before, when he had been rambling about himself, he had been sporting a cool smile: but now that had fallen, as he was clearly unable to sustain his usual nonchalant demeanour. Silently, he relieves you of the opened jar, before delving his hand into the mixture, covering it in a thick beige coating.

Then he's onto you again: his lips are on your chest, leaving a wake of bruises and bites, as he clumsily smears the peanut butter all over your stomach. It's cold and lumpy, the nuttiness scratching your soft skin: but you don't care about how peculiar it is – because _how could you_ , when he's simultaneously rubbing you up and down, and making you feel like you're in a dream.

“ _Fucking hell, Komaeda,_ ” you breathe deeply, as he drags his tongue across your nipples _,_ and his hands are so low now, they're coating the inner areas of your thighs. You're whining as he does so, as you can feel  _everything_ \- the way his bony digits press into your sensitive skin, smearing more and more of the stuff all over the place; and the wetness of his tongue, as he painfully and ever so slowly glides down your abdomen, starting to suck off the peanut butter smeared all over your body from before hand.

Somehow, though, even all of this isn't enough stimulus: there's a building throbbing sensation that's only growing in the pits of your stomach, because  _you're hungry_ for more, and for more of him, and so you start  _begging_ him - " _Komaeda... Please: go lower. Go inside of me._ " - desperately, tears almost forming in your eyes, and because of his close proximity you can actually  _feel_ that dirtbag start to smirk with satisfaction, delighted to hear to so hot and heavy.

Of course he complies. Working his way down, he goes even further, and though many of your sensations have gone numb from pleasure, you feel yourself lift as he raises your lower back to get a better vantage. At first it's slow going: he gingerly tests the waters, his hands only brushing the outside of your behind, as if he was having second thoughts; but sooner than later, he immediately goes in, forcing his hand into your right hole and filling it with peanut butter, as his tongue moves down to your thighs. Instinctively you clench down on his hand and cry out, only to hear a resounding squelch and to  _feel_ the stuff squish and compress inside of you.

Now it's so much - it's almost  _too_ much and it aches to keep yourself going, to  _not cry out_ and let yourself fall over the edge - because as his hands swirl around your insides, his tongue starts working at those sensitive parts again, forcefully licking away and making your entire body shake with euphoria, but that's  _nothing_ to when he takes his hands off of you, and his tongue starts edging around the perimeter of your asshole, before-

A moan rips through your body, as he drags his tongue inside of you, leaving you feeling wet and cold and fucking incredible. Your fingers clench, winding through the blankets, as he goes to town on your ass, his own hands gripping your thighs _hard_  to steady himself. Everything seems to be spinning again, although at a much greater speed than before: when you close your eyes, you see fireworks, that shine  _brighter_ and  _brighter_ the deeper he goes in, forcing his way more and more into you, and before long there isn't even any more peanut butter left, and he's just fucking with you with his mouth, _repeatedly_   _hitting_ you in exactly the right fucking spot until you end up fucking cumming _hard_ and with a resounding yell, your entire body _jolting_ and completely  _shaken_ of everything holy...

It's fuzzy now, as he sets you back, and your entire body feels weirdly sticky and wet. You're no longer hot all over - on the contrary, you're  _shaking_ \- but he's still breathing heavily, looking down at you with a grin in his eyes. "You remembered," you hear him murmur, though you could honestly just be imagining it at this post, "you remembered about my favourite," and it's so weird, because even though he's just pushed you to the brink, he's now so tender, lying down next to you and embracing you as warmly as he did that Summer's Day.

Komaeda loves salty things. But he also loves you too. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> i fucking hate peanut butter


End file.
